CRANES IN THE SKY
Wind rustled the top fros of the pine trees, raining leaves onto the neglected overgrown path. I wasn’t too far out from the village gate, and yet barely anyone came this way anymore. All that remained of civilization along these roads were the wreaths of origami cranes that mourners hung from the pines after the capital fell. Thousands of them fluttered heavy overhead, swaying with unfulfilled wishes.
I wondered if that Brotha Monk was still praying over the body. The entire time he looked as if he wanted to say something, but I think I scared him off from trying. Regardless, I protected him for as long as I could, but eventually, I had to leave the Brotha Monk behind. Whatever. He’d be fine. I had someplace to be.
The other monks, his reinforcements, had arrived by then anyway. Between the lot of them, you’d think they could take care of themselves. Although, I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve had to save one of their asses.
They’ll be fine. They’ll be fine.
I feel you judging me.
Perhaps I should have stayed to make sure the monks made it back behind the gate. Perhaps I could have saved that kid. Perhaps. If I were younger, and faster, and my knees didn’t creak so much. I should have tried harder. I should have stayed. I know that, okay? But I can’t go around saving everybody. I’ve lived that life before. I’ve got to take care of me and mine. So leave me the fuck alone.
A shadow moved at the corner of my eye.
STOP FOLLOWING ME! DO YOU HEAR ME?!
I unsheathed my katana and swiveled to find wherever the fuck you were hiding. A glance back revealed my shadow had gone missing. I searched the blurry trees. I circled once, twice, and found you standing up ahead in the middle of the road. As if you had always been there.
Finally, you show yourself.
Leaves crunched beneath my getas as I came closer, until I could see you clearly—a figure knitted by shadows, a dark void of absence, a shadow clone that dared to mirror my image: same black hakama, same frayed haori worn down by the years, and same brilliantly gorgeous afro ruffled by every breeze of the wind. Except your hair was white compared to my grey-streaked black, and the sheaths of your blades were devoid of color. You, The Shadow Demon.
“But you’re so fun to follow,” you said, with an amused smirk that made me nauseous to look at. Didn’t look right, for that was my smirk, my amusement, that I had lost a long time ago. Yet, here it was again, stolen by you—a demon that has accosted my shadow.
Back on that fateful day in the capital, after I had heard what happened and rushed to discover the truth with my own eyes, you bound yourself to me. In the middle of that graveyard of ravenous crows and rotting corpses, I hadn’t been paying enough attention. All I knew was that I hadn’t been alone since the moment I cremated my fellow Sistahs. Or maybe it was before that, during the numb work of piling corpses while their blood stained my skin like penitent tattoos. Or maybe before that, as I walked through the gates and witnessed how a tsunami of death had scattered katanas, decimated armor, and stolen lives. Somehow, someway, you slithered into my shadow and darkened my thoughts.
You have stalked my every step, nipped at my heels, and buzzed around like an annoying gnat I could not swat away. Usually, I did a good job of ignoring you, but sometimes, on some days, I couldn’t scratch you out from underneath my skin.
I sheathed my katana, knowing it wouldn’t do much good, and crossed my arms. I was so tired of you annoying the shit out of me all the time.
“Leave me alone,” I demanded.
“But you’d be so lonely without me.”
Lonely my ass. I’d rejoice the day I’m free of you. I said, mean-mugging, “If you can’t leave me alone, at least get out of my way.”
You tilted your head and broke my face with a bright white smile. “Always rushing. Always got someplace to be. Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you tired of going to and fro? Don’t you want to . . .” In the blink of an eye, you streaked forward. I didn’t flinch as you pressed into my space. “. . . Take a break? Slow down? Give up?”
I wanted nothing more than to take a damn break. I was tired of watching young boys and girls dying. I was tired of watching poor folks taken advantage of by the cruel and greedy rich. I was tired of watching all the progress that a younger me fought for pushed back inch by inch. I was tired of leaving behind loose ends because I didn’t have the time to tie them. I had shit to do, and places to be, and I’ve ceded that it was my lot in life to not know any rest till I was dead. Not much rest closing my eyes, either. Even in my sleep, you’ve turned my dreams into nightmares.
With an annoyed grumble, I marched forward and walked straight through you. I hated to do it. A freezing cold shivered through my bones every time. But you had embodied my shadow. Ultimately, you can’t hurt me unless I let you. I walked out the other side of you, toward a rainbow wreath of cranes.
If I couldn’t vanquish you, the least I could do was keep walking.
“You heard what that demon-snack was talking about,” you said behind me. “Someone out there is looking for you. Who do you think it is? Do you think it could be true? That one of the Sistah Samurai survived? Think she’ll hate you for what you did, for not being there on the frontlines? Think she’ll have any scars because of you?”
I should have kept going, but instead I turned on my heels and snapped, “My Sistahs are dead. They are dead. I cremated the bodies. I said their names.”
“You cremated the leftovers. You cremated the limbs that the demons were too messy to eat. You cremated the toes that got caught between their teeth and spat out. Did you put the pieces back together? Did you count them? Did you count all of the souls that could have been saved because of you?”
I clenched my white headband, where black letters were written in katakana and kanji: シスター侍.
That was not how I found them at all. You were fucking with me. Demons didn’t eat people. They ate souls.
“I counted the headbands,” I said, teeth clenched. “They are all gone. I don’t know who that impostor thinks she is, but I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
“Will you? Or will you keep running away? Like how you keep running away from the truth? You abandoned them. You made a mistake. You allowed them to be slaughtered. If you had been there, and honored your duty, you could have saved them. And you still call yourself a samurai? What a joke. At least a real samurai would have—”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” I snapped and lunged forward. I thumbed the katana loose from the hilt and slashed up out of the sheath. The shadow you stole dispersed into a cloud of brackish smoke around the blade’s edge.
I knew I couldn’t kill you. I’ve tried a thousand times before, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try a thousand times more.
Without pause, I slapped a talisman onto the katana. I swiveled, and with a blade of FIRE, sliced through the space where you reappeared behind me. You screeched and fled more from the light than from the heat.
I stood at the ready in the middle of the road, tensed and waiting for you to reappear. I stood there until the little ink that had remained on the fire talisman faded away, and the worn paper fluttered to the ground. I glanced behind me to be sure. My shadow had returned. Maybe now you’ll finally leave me alone.
Did you really think that would work?
I rolled my eyes. I’ve got more important things to do than to argue with you. I should have never let you mess with my head in the first place.
A ragged breath escaped my lips. Then, I glared at my shaking hands and forced them to stop. My mouth tasted both dry and salty, as if I had been sucking on sunflower seeds. The paper cranes swayed, colorful pinecones curtaining the road.
There was no time for self-pity. No time for a quick breather, or the chance to re-center myself, or to salve the wounds from your burning accusations. No time at all.
I sheathed my katana and continued down the road.
It was like my momma always used to say: keep it pushin’.